wiggle worm at rest {tints}

I like this photo of Lily.

She's serene and still.  Something that doesn't happen very often.  Like, hardly at all.

She can't help herself. 

But it's nice when, sometimes, she...just...sits.  I feel like I can breathe.

And then in 4 seconds she gets over it and is back to bouncing off the walls.

hanging out

The thermometer actually says 44 degrees. FOURTY-FOUR!  Can you believe it?

And it scares me just a little. Cuz if it's that warm in Roosevelt--in January--we're in for it.

But it won't be too long until the big thaw.

Until then, we're just chillaxin' round here; making masterpieces out of Playdough and putting on fightin' the fever!    

(Steve hates that word.  And you know what that means? I have to slip it into conversation as much as I possibly can.  The 9 year old in me likes to poke him with a stick.)

post it.

Do you hate blogging?

Cuz I think I do.

I didn't used to.  I used to love it.  It was fun.  An extracurricular activity I regularly took part in.

Then real-life people would tell me they read my blog, followed by a compliment of some sort.  (That's nice.  Thank you.  I appreciate the love.)

And then...I closed up.  Super tight.  I was Mary Katherine Gallagher--nervous, anxious...sweaty.  Maybe a little paranoid.

I didn't like people knowing my business.  (Uh, that's what a blog is, right?)

I liked the mostly anonymity of blogging.  I told a handful of people I had one.  And then, if someone in cyberEarth happened upon it--so what?  They don't know me.  I don't know them.  I won't run into them in the grocery store and have to talk about what I wrote.  (Like, why would I want to do that anyway?  I wrote it.  I know what's there.) 

So, pretty soon after I started getting feedback from these real-live people, I felt I had to come up with something read-worthy for every post.  Something profound and interesting.  It was annoying.  So over the past year, I haven't wanted to write much.  It hasn't been fun.

But then a few weeks ago during Christmas dinner, my brother mentioned the time I killed my cat.  (I don't remember why.  Surely, I was being mocked.)

I started thinking about that paper I wrote in my BYU English class.  It was about my dead cat.  When I was eight.  I killed it.  I'm not weird.  (I mention BYU for one reason:  to show that my target audience may or may not have fully appreciated a story about an animal killing.)

This paper was a zinger.  Classic.  A shining moment in my academic past. 

When the assignment was given, we were first instructed to write about an experience that changed our lives somehow.  It was to be written as a personal narrative.  And while others were writing about their missions, a car accident, their high school graduation, I chose to write about Fluffy and the day the music died.

Paper written.  Peer edited.  Professor approved.  Done.   

The next week, we were given another assignment.  We were to write about the same experience from a perspective of someone else who was involved.  I thought about it.  Who else was there?  No one.  Just me and the cat.  Dead cat.

I told my sister about my dilemma.  Lo and behold, she had been there!  She remembers how it all went down.  Only three at the time.

She told me what she remembered and off I went.  I told her story.  The story of a three year old baby...watching as the fate of Fluffy unraveled.

Then the next week came.  I was apparently not done telling the story of a girl and her cat.  My professor instructed, "Now you need to come up with one more perspective to write from.  Something non-human.  An object.  A tree.  A fly on the wall, literally."

Well, hot dog!  And phew!  Cuz I only had one more character in my story.  (My ego and I couldn't help thinking that she had my story in mind when making this assignment...)

Delving into the mind of Fluffy was an exercise I did not soon forget.  To tell her tale from her perspective was eye opening.  I ended her story in a very sad tone.  Cuz it was.  Fluffy's last words were full of confusion and panic.  The cat I begged for and loved was gone.  Gone.  GONE!! 

The final assignment was to put all the perspectives together into one paper; into one full, well- rounded story.  So I did.  And I got an A.

I'm sure by now you're wondering, what's your point?  (And if you're a sibling, you're thinking, "Uh huh...heard it. What's your point?")  And I'm not sure how my essay story relates to this post, but here's my point:

I like writing stuff.  I don't always like writing stuff that means anything to anyone.  I like typing just to type.  It's fun.  I like seeing how fast I can type without messing up.

I like the date on top of blog post to be recent.  It makes me feel...like I'm on the ball.  Even though, if I never wrote another post it wouldn't throw my world off its axis or yours.  Everything would be fine.

But I miss the days of "Tags" and "Look at the booger my daughter picked!"  When everything was simple and nobody cared what you wrote so long as you wrote.  Remember those days?  Before Facebook?

I remember it.  I liked it.

So, I'm going to pretend that you aren't reading my blog and go back to writing anything and nothing and whatever.

 

Ham.

Have a good one!

thoughts of the day

Did you see Martha Stewart today?

She made these:

They totally look like peaches...but they're actually cake.

I probably will never make them.  I just think they're really pretty...and clever. 

Speaking of Martha...

I enjoy watching her mannerisms.  She's so controlling and doesn't care if she makes her guests feel like children.  If it weren't rude, I'd admire it.

Speaking of someone who likes cleanliness...

If you need a last minute Christmas present for that hard-to-shop-for clean freak in your life, buy them this:  (the clouds part, the heavens open, angelic choirs join in chorus...) the Libman Freedom Spray Mop.

I (in my best Grinch voice) LOATHE mopping.  Hate it.  Hate it.  Triple hate it.  It bites.  It's too time consuming.  It's a hassle.  I'd rather clean a toilet...without gloves on.  Mopping is awful.

Until now!

I got this mop a month or so back and it's super-fantastic!  If I were a broom, I'd marry it. 

It's also pretty inexpensive.  Only $20 at Target and the cleaner costs pennies.  I just use vinegar and water, which does an excellent job of cleaning most anything.  And it's quick.  I don't have to move every piece of kitchen furniture to do it and I mop a lot more often.  

And if you're one of those people who think, "That is a stupid present.  Who would want that for Christmas?!"  Well, then, you're right.  Don't get this for someone as a Christmas present.  It'd be right up there with getting deodorant in your stocking.  "Merry Christmas, you stink!"..."Merry Christmas, my feet stick to your floor!"

But it is an awesome mop.  Just so you know.

In other news, the snow finally came.  With vengeance.  I think I'm not going anywhere for a few days.  (Why do people like taking picture of the snow at their houses?)

 Hello, White.

 I wish I took a better picture of this:

I spent a good half hour out there knocking the snow off the canopy.  It wasn't fun.  I ripped a hole in it. Who knew snow could be so heavy?   I got snow in my ears.  And down the back of my coat.  And my fingers temporarily lost any sensation. 

I'm good now.  But like I said, won't be going anywhere for a few days.

Which leads me to the rest of this post.  Stuff I saved for a rainy (snowy) day.

This is my Christmas tree.  In bokeh. Blur is beautiful. 

This is Steve's birthday cake.  Carrot.  The best carrot cake I've ever had.  It's from my favorite people at Cook's Country.  (Thank you, D.I. for having this glorious cookbook for only $3.  Although, I'm a little shocked that someone had the nerve to give this book away!)  I may post the recipe later.  Mmm.  It was good. 

There's no real reason for this next picture.  Other than, I like it.  I made seasonal "T"s to go on my wall.  This is the Christmas T.  Steve says it looks like a "J". 

 This is Steve?  Isn't he handsome.  His face shines in the glow of the computer screen.

This is me.  Steve took it.  I don't know when.  But it was in my camera.  He did a good job.

Aren't you jealous of my lusciously full lashes?  (Yeah, they're there.  Look harder.)

Here's my beloved brother.  He drove all the way here last week (2 1/2 hours away) to rescue me from my own technological stupidity.  He saved me exactly $1,995.00. 

"What a brother.  What a sweet, wonderful guy..."

 More lovely bokeh.  Just cuz I like it.  I'll be sad when Christmas is over and there won't be as many twinkly lights to take pictures of.

And lastly for your tour through my rainy day post:  

Have a nice day.

oh, construction paper tree...how lovely are thy branches

HERE's a fun Christmas craft from simple as that.

This is our version.

It's always nice getting back to stuff you'd do in elementary school.

Happy Gluing!

looking a lot like Christmas

This past weekend was spent in the city...in A city.  A city bigger than my city...where we went to many many stores, Temple Square, and The Lion House Pantry .

I ate way too much...because that's what you do when you go there. 
 
Eight people cut in front of us while we were in line.  (Forty minutes of knee-slapping fun.)  I was mad.  The fifth-grader inside of me came out and wanted to tattle on them...to someone.  Anyone.  There was no one.  So I ranted and raved real good to Steve.  He looked at me and nodded.  Good guy, that Steve.

Inconsiderate people drive me crazy.  Especially at Christmas time when I'm trying to be jolly and full of good, GOOD cheer.

People, far and wide...lend me thine ear!  This holiday season, if you get to a restaurant before the rest of your party, wait at the end of the line until everyone arrives and then proceed to take your places.  One or two people is no big deal, but don't let every member of your extended family cut in front of all the hungry people behind you.  We have children.  We have control issues.  We are this close to gutting you like a fish.  And you are a poopy pants.

Back to my evening.

Temple Square was packed.  Like sardines.  It was pretty though.  You can see the Salt Lake City Temple in pictures a hundred times but never get over how awesome it is in person.  Especially with all the lights.

Growing up, it was just an expected thing to go see the lights at the Mesa Temple.  It was easy.  But going to see them in SLC is an event.  Lots of walking.  Lots of waiting.

But it was worth it.  There's a lot of cool stuff there this year that I don't remember from the last time I went.

And we were able to walk off dinner when we were done and journeyed back to the car.  (...Parked in a far away land called South Salt Lake City.  Okay, not that far.  But it was getting close.)

 

This (below) was my favorite.  (And is deceitfully void of people in the background.  Don't let it fool you.  There were hoards of people just to the right, in front of the nativity.  I couldn't even worm my way in.)

It was a four-day weekend for us.  Three of those days spent shopping.  Everywhere.  Three LONG days.  My feet hurt.

And after the three long days of shopping, we concluded that most of our shopping would be done online.

It wasn't a total waste though.  Mrs. Fields had a buy 3 cookies, get 3 cookies free.  You better believe I bought at least three cookies.   

(I think I am actually addicted to the chewy fudge cookies.  But you wouldn't like 'em.  They're too rich.  Not for the faint of tummy, or the weak of palate.)

(I just looked, Mrs. Fields will send me some of these delights for the low low price of $29.99!  

Got that, Santa?!)





See latest Photoblog post HERE and HERE.

ode to a tree sorta...& and a lens

So, it's cold.  It's winter.  It's Christmas-time.

Time for baked goods.  Time for A Charlie Brown Christmas.  Time to spend money on something stupid and irresponsible...but justifying that, "Hey, it's Christmas!"  

Ahhh, Christmas.

First thing on the list was getting a tree.

A real one.

I'm not a die hard have-to-have-a-real-tree person.  And I'm not a fake-trees-are better person.  I like what's easier.  And this year, what's easier is only spending $10 on a tree.  (Maybe when the smoke clears and stuff goes on clearance, we'll get a nice fake one for those years I'm feeling lazy.)

We went up this way to get it...

Pretty, right?  There's my town.  We Rooseveltites...(...Rooseveltonians?  ...Roosevelters?  Still not clear on that...)...really are lucky to live in a this close to the mountains.

And this, this is just a picture of Lily.  We were waiting for something...so I pulled out the camera.

I am inlove with this lens.  Truly in-love...as inlove with an inanimate object as a person could be.  (It's a 50mm.  In case you were wondering.  Frackin' awesome blurage.) 

Mostly, this was a very non-interactive Christmas tree excursion.  Lily, me, and some of her cousins hung out on the road, while Steve and his bro went hunting for the tree on a snowmobile way back there. 

I was content with the situation.

"Oh, Mommy...I have a snowball for you..."

"Lily...you do it...you die."

She did not choose...poorly.

We did lots of waiting around on this day...deep snow, trucks stuck, traffic on the road (many other tree-getters about that day), etc.  

Lily's arm.  Her cousin's head.
  

All in all, a good time.  A mellow time.  If I hadn't had to pee for 2 hours, it would have been even better.  I coulda gotten a nice mountain nap or somethin'.

Notice, I don't have a picture of the tree.  That's cuz Steve stuck it in the back of the truck really quick and after that, I lost interest.

Besides, you all know what a pine tree looks like.  It's green.  It has needles.  It's in my living room.  (For a while there, it was almost invisible next to my green walls.  We since put lights and ornaments on it, so now it's much more noticeable.)  

But, I did take a few pictures of a couple ornaments, not because I want to show you what's on my tree...but because, yes, that's right ladies and gentlemen...I wanna marry this lens.  And since my time with it is limited, (borrowing it), I'm going to be just that obnoxious.

Speaking of pictures, I made some pumpkin chocolate chip muffins.  They were really good.  Better than pcc cookies or ppc bread.  I have finally found my favorite.  Pumpkins and chocolate chip are best when enjoyed in muffin form.  And here's the recipe which I'm giving 5 gold stars.

They're so good, they're like after-dinner mints.  Only not chalky.  Or gross.  You'll want to pop one in right after dinner.  And breakfast.  And lunch.  And I have.  Because I am a baked-goods pig.

...the muffins were nestled all snug in their beds...

Dan, my brotha-from-the-same-motha, I thought of you whilst I was eating them.  Don't know why.  Just thought it was a moment you should have been sharing with me.

And that's my December thus far.  There is a whole day's worth of pictures from a local-ish "fair" type thing...but that's for another day, another post, another hour needing killed.

Hope everyone has a happy season and I will give you my wish list upon request.